


Brother Sandor and a Little Bird

by AzraelGFG



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Love, Fluff and Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Rape Recovery, Sandor is an Astartes, Science Fiction Elements, Space Marines, Threats of Violence, Unknown feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzraelGFG/pseuds/AzraelGFG
Summary: In the 41st Millennium, there is only war in the galaxy. When Sandor, Company Master of the Dark Angels Space Marine chapter, gets ordered to lead the attack on the surface of a planet, something goes wrong and Sandor finds himself on a world he never was and don't understand.When he tried to find out where he is he meets someone that changes his life forever...





	1. Sandor I

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second crossover story and due to the complex nature of the Warhammer 40k universe and its lore, I will have to do some lore bending to make it work. Since this story is mostly set rather in the universe of AsoIaF I will mark words or names from 40k with a "*" and put a link in the endnotes so you can read for yourself if interested.
> 
> To imagine Sandor look at this picture: [](https://imgur.com/kk0D7Fx)

Sandor walked down the corridor of the Sword of Caliban*, one of the best strike cruisers the Dark Angels* chapter had to offer.

Sandor was Company Master* of the 3rd company. He had been the first of Belisarius Cawl’s* creations to gain the rank of a Company Master.

So far, no Primaris Astartes* had made it. Sandor was the first one ever since the Primaris Marines had been released into the galaxy to strengthen the ranks of the Adeptus Astartes* chapters all over the Imperium* to fight the foes of the Emperor*.

He was also the first Primaris to be introduced into the Inner Circle*, the secret ranks within the chapter that knew about the Fallen*.

Supreme Grandmaster Azrael* had seen something in him after a battle against the corrupt forces of Chaos*. It was the highest honor to be part of the Inner Circle and Sandor wouldn’t disappoint the leader of the Unforgiven*.

They had left the Warp* hours ago and now prepared to land on the surface of the planet below them.

They had heard word that the archtraitor Cypher* had been spotted on this planet along with several other of the Fallen.

Sandor had been given the order to attack the capital of the planet and distract the rebel forces, so Grandmaster Belial* could lead the Deathwing* for a deep strike, while parts of the Ravenwing* would drive the traitors into Belial’s terminators* arms.

As company master, he had around one hundred men under his command. With some, he already served for a hundred years.

Sandor entered the landing deck where his men prepared for battle. The 3rd company consisted of Primaris and normal Space Marines, if you could use the word normal when you mentioned the Emperors creations.

Normal humans looked like miniatures compared to him and his battle brothers. Sandor would lead the first wave. They would be teleported to the surface to clear a landing zone while the remaining company would land by dropships.

His men were preparing their weapons. Tech-priest* were speaking ancient prayers to the weapons and applied sacred oils to the weapons that sometimes were older than the men who used them.

Grand Master Sapphon*, the highest of the Chapter Chaplains had spoken his prayers already and Interrogator-Chaplain Asmodai* had already mentioned how excited he was to make the traitors repent their sins.

“Brothers!” Sandor yelled to get the attention of his men. “Prepare for battle.”

His men nodded and the forty men that would accompany him in the first wave stepped next to him on the teleporter platform.

Sandor nodded to the Servitor* to activate the transportation. Even in his armor he felt the arcane energy emitted by this technology.

Lightnings flickered over his armor. It wasn’t the first time he was teleported into battle but this time he felt something was wrong.

Just as he was surrounded by light, he heard the voice of Ezekiel* in his head. Sandor though he heard him saying they should abort, but it was too late.

He felt himself dematerialize…before he materialized again a few meters above the ground of a snowy field.

He fell like a stone and his HUD display was filled with alarms by his machine spirit*.

Sandor got up from the ground and looked around, while his armor went through diagnostics making sure he was completely operational.

Sandor looked around. He saw nothing but snowy fields and some trees. This for sure wasn’t the place he was supposed to be.

The world he was supposed to land was a heavy industrialized world where the fields were covered in toxic ash.

Sandor looked to the sky. Sandor assumed it was late afternoon but he could see the moon.

Sandor asked his machine ghost to check which moon that was, but he got no answer. This moon wasn’t in the databank of his armor.

He activated his Vox-caster* and tried to reach anyone, but he got no answer. He tried every channel and listened to any transmission he might receive but the Vox stayed quiet.

Sandor wasn’t too worried. The Warp was a wild place and landing the wrong place wasn’t that uncommon. This world certainly was part of the Imperium and sooner or later he would find a com-relays he could use to contact the Chapter.

Sandor chose a direction and simply started to walk. He had no indication where the next city was so he simply started walking. He stayed alert though. Who knew if this word was as peaceful as it seemed?

As soon as the night came and he saw the stars he asked his machine ghost again if he knew any of the star constellations, but the machine ghost again said there was no data available.

The next morning, he finally saw a small house. It was primitive, only built with wood and a straw roof.

He saw an elderly man chop wood in front of it.

“Citizen, tell me which world this is,” Sandor said and the man looked scared, which wasn’t a surprise considering he was 2,50 m tall and weight nearly a ton with his MK.X power armor*.

“Who are you?” he asked with a trembling voice.

“Answer the question,” Sandor demanded.

“I…I don’t know…”

“Who is the governor of this world?” Sandor asked annoyed.

“Governor?”

“Who rules this land?”

“The Starks,” the man said.

“Where and which direction?”

“W…W…Winterfell…” the man stammered and pointed North.

Sandor didn’t say anything more but simply walked away.

“But they don’t rule anymore. The Boltons now rule these lands.”

“So, a rebellion?” Sandor asked.

“They slaughtered Robb Stark at a wedding and his sister is now married to the son of Roose Bolton in Winterfell,” the man said and Sandor heard how the man’s heart speed up mentioning it.

Sandor nodded and continued his way North.

He superior physique allowed him to march without breaks. He had imagined Winterfell to be a Hive city*, but he what he saw only confirmed that the world he was on was far more primitive than he had imagined.

It was just a stone castle. He didn’t see any advanced defense systems.

This world belonged to the Emperor of Mankind, even if it seems it has been isolated for only the Emperor knew how long.

And if the Starks were the governors of this world by the Emperor’s will Sandor as his servant had the duty to restore order.

At all cost.


	2. Sansa I

“Your Lord husband demands your presence,” Theon told her after he had entered her room.

At first, Sansa had thought Ramsay had come during the day to show her once more what he would do if she tried to escape again.

Her body still hurt from the treatment she had gotten last night, for trying to convince Theon to lit the candle in the highest tower.

Sansa didn’t want to leave her room. It could only be something bad if Ramsay demanded her presence, but she nevertheless had no choice.

Sansa got up from her bed.

Theon offered his arm but Sansa walked past him, not looking at him. Two guards waited outside the door to escort her to the great hall or where ever Ramsay wanted her to come.

They entered the great hall and when Sansa lifted her eyes, she saw a giant stand in the center of the hall.

_By the gods, the Mountain has come to take me to Cersei_ , Sansa thought, seeing the giant man.

The giant turned and Sansa noticed the strange armor he was wearing. It was massive. It had was painted in dark green color, a skull with wings covered the breastplate who looked easily like it was at least ten inches thick. On his left shoulder was a sword with wings.

His helmet was closed and looked different to everything Sansa had ever seen.

His eyes were glowing red like they were on fire.

Sansa felt her heart speed up at the sight.

“Is this Sansa Stark?” the giant asked and his voice didn’t sound human. Sansa couldn’t even describe how it sounded. He sounded like he wasn’t from this world.

“Aye, this is my lovely wife,” Ramsay suddenly said next to her. Sansa hadn’t even noticed him coming up next to her.

Sansa flinched when Ramsay stroked her cheek with his index.

“Here she is,” Ramsay said close to her ear and Sansa felt a wave of disgust run through her at the feeling his breath on her skin. “What do you want?”

“Give her to me,” the giant said. “She is the rightful ruler of this land.”

“Is that so?” Ramsay asked stepping towards the giant. Sansa looked over to where Roose Bolton was sitting. He looked concerned.

Ramsay stood right in front of the giant.

“She is mine,” Ramsay said. “Mine to play with. Mine to fuck whenever I want to.”

Ramsay pulled his dagger.

“And you won’t take her.”

The giant moved to fast Sansa could barely see the movement, but Ramsay was pushed aside by the giant, so hard he landed a few meters away groaning in pain.

“Next time you ignore an order, I’ll kill you,” the giant said and started walking towards Sansa.

Every step made the ground shake a little and Sansa didn’t know what to do at the sight of this giant come towards her.

The giant simply picked her up like she weighed nothing and threw her over his shoulder before starting to leave the hall.

The way he had picked her up reminded her of the time Sandor had saved her during the bread riot.

“Stop him!” she heard Ramsay yell, but none of the men moved.

“Stop him!” she heard Roose Bolton yell, but the men just looked at each other.

They crossed the courtyard and the cold air made her shiver. Even though the giant’s grip didn’t hurt her she knew she wouldn’t have a chance to escape.

They reached the gate and the portcullis came down crushing.

This is the end of our escape, Sansa thought desperate, but what happened next was beyond Sansa’s imagination.

He put her down, _gentler_ than she imagined possible. It had been so long ago that she had felt a gentle touch that she barely remembered how that felt.

The giant lifted the massive portcullis made of inch thick cast iron like it was nothing.

He held it up with one hand and pushed her gently on the other side before he followed her letting the portcullis crush back down.

He picked her back up and before Sansa knew what was going on, he started to run in Northern direction with the speed Sansa only knew from fast horses.

She had no idea what was happening with her, but inside her, she felt at least the slightest bit of happiness that she at least was away from Ramsay.

She hoped this wasn’t the start of something worse.


	3. Sandor II

Sandor headed straight North. He could easily have eliminated every soldier in the castle, but the risk that Sansa Stark would have been killed was too high.

He had run for hours, but he didn’t feel out of breath. His third lung allowed him to run for hours if not days without feeling tired.

“Please…stop…I need a break…” Sansa pleaded over his shoulder.

She though didn’t have the stamina he had.

Sandor stopped. They were deep in the forest. His sensors told him they were alone.

He put her down. She was shivering and his sensors told him her body temperature was below the usual human body temperature.

She simply stared at him. She obviously never had seen an Astartes before.

This world really must have been cut off from the Imperium for millennia.

_Maybe even since the Great Crusade_ *, Sandor thought.

“We make a break here for you to rest,” he said and she slowly nodded.

Sandor walked to the next tree and collected some branches for a fire.

His armor protected him against the cold weather and probably everything else this world could throw at him, but she was just a human. Without a fire, she would die within a few hours.

He lit up the fire and told her to sit.

“What are you?” she asked with a trembling voice. He could hear her heart speed up at the question. She was afraid.

“I am Company Master Sandor, from the 3rd company of the Dark Angels Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes.”

“Sa…Sandor?” she asked in disbelieve. “Can you show me your face?”

Sandor didn’t know why she would ask for this, but Sandor needed her trust if she was supposed to help him claim this world back in the name of the Emperor.

He unlocked his helmet and with a hissing sound he took it off.

“By the gods, it’s really you,” Sansa exclaimed. “I thought you were dead,” she said tears welling in her eyes.

“I don’t know you.”

“Sandor…it’s me…Sansa…your little bird.”

“I don’t know you.”

“But…you helped me…you saved me during the bread riots in King’s Landing…you offered to take me when the Blackwater burned.”

“You must mistake me for somebody else. I’ve never been on this world.”

“But…but…you look just like him…taller maybe…but the same face…your scars…I know how you got them…you told me how your brother burned you as child…”

“I got my burns during battle,” Sandor said. During one of his first campaigns against the Tyranids* one of these creatures had spit acid in his face. The Apothecary* had been able to restore the right side of his face besides some scars.

“This all doesn’t make sense…” Sansa said shaking her head.

“Tell me about it,” he dryly said. “Do you know where the next com relay is?” he asked.

“Com relay?” she asked. “What is that?”

“A station to make contact with my chapter.”

“Where are they?”

“That’s what I try to find out…” Sandor said more roughly than he intended and Sansa jumped at his voice.

“By the Lion*…your world must have been isolated from the Imperium for thousands of years…that’s the only explanation why all your tech got lost that you don’t even know what a com relay is…”

Sandor sighed in frustration. This world was primitive, but it belonged still to the Emperor. He was the protector of mankind and Sandor was the sword to defeat his enemies.

Sooner or later he would find a way to communicate with the chapter.

“Where is your army?” Sandor asked her.

“What do you mean?” Sansa asked.

“You are the ruler of this land, or so I heard at least. So where is your army?”

“I…I don’t have an army…” he stammered, still afraid.

“What use are you to me, if you don’t have an army?” he asked.

“My…my brother…” she started quickly. “He is at Castle Black. He might have men that would fight for me.”

“Where is this place?” Sandor asked.

“At the Wall…further North…”

Sandor only nodded before he turned his head.

He heard someone approach them. Whoever came was still kilometers away, but he could clearly hear them. Twenty men on horses.

“Someone is coming,” Sandor plainly said and put his helmet back on.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Sandor said.

“How many?” Sansa asked fearfully.

“Twenty. On horses.”

“They are coming for me,” she whimpered.

Sandor had analyzed the whole situation within seconds he had first laid eyes on Sansa. He knew about her bruises and the abuse she had to endure. He had seen it by the way she had flinched at the touch of that man who had called himself her husband.

“Do we run?” she asked.

“No.”

“Shall I extinguish the fire?”

“No.”

“What are we doing?”

“Fight.”

“I can’t fight,” Sansa yelped.

He heard the enemies only a few hundred meters away and by now even Sansa must hear them.

Sandor checked his Bolt rifle*. His clip was full and he took aim.

He saw the rider fifty meters away.

“Cover your ears,” he said and the moment Sansa covert her ears he pulled the trigger.

The first bolt hit the closest rider and as soon as the bolt penetrated the armor it exploded turning the Bolton man into a bloody cloud.

The other men looked in shock at what just had happened, before they continued to storm towards them.

Sandor continued to fire. One bolt at each rider but one. Within seconds eighteen men died.

The last one was the closest to him and he tried to get him with his lance. Sandor swiftly turned and grabbed the man off the horse within the same motion.

The man was kicking and desperately trying to loosen the steel hard grip of Sandor’s fingers around his neck.

Sandor _lightly_ pressed his hand together and he felt the man’s neck break making his body go limb.

He ripped the thick cloak off his shoulders before he simply threw aside the dead body turning to Sansa handing her the cloak.

Her eyes were widely open. She certainly had never witnessed anything like that before.

“Take the horse,” he told her and she slowly started to approach the horse of the last man he had killed.

“We head to Castle Black,” Sandor said and Sansa nodded after he helped her on the horse.

Sansa started to ride North and Sandor followed her running next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Great Crusade](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Great_Crusade)
> 
> [Tyranids](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Tyranid)
> 
> [Apothecary](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Apothecary)
> 
> [Bolt Rifle](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Boltgun#Mk.II_Cawl_pattern_Bolt_Rifle)


	4. Sansa II

They had reached Castle Black this morning. The whole rest of the journey North Sansa couldn’t forget what she had witnessed when Ramsay’s men had caught up to them.  
Sandor had killed them without any troubles. It had all happened so quick, Sansa had barely realized it.

All of this didn’t make any sense to her. He looked like the Sandor she had known in King’s Landing. He even sounded like him.

But he said he didn’t know her and he was taller than the Sandor she had known…way taller…and stronger. And what he talked about didn’t make any sense either to her ears. And the weapons he used were beyond anything Sansa had ever seen or heard off. Just like his armor.

But he protected her and for now, it was enough, even though she missed the way he had called her little bird.

When they had reached Castle Black she had been finally reunited with her brother.

She had always been so bad to Jon. Sansa had apologized to him and had been shocked when she had heard that Jon had been murdered and resurrected by the red witch.

The red-haired wildling had boasted that Jon must be some kind of god if he could die and come back.

Hearing this Sandor had immediately demanded that the red woman was brought to him.

When Lady Melisandre had come from her tower with Ser Davos, who was taken aback seeing Sandor, Sandor had grabbed her throat so quick before she had the chance to react.

“My work isn’t done in this world,” Melisandre had said, struggling against his grip.

“The Imperium has no place for creatures like you. I would usually hand you over to an Inquisitor* of the Ordo Hereticus* to deal with you, but that would take too long. I bring you the imperial justice.”

Sandor had dragged her outside the gates, while everybody watched not moving a meter.

Nobody dared to say something. Even the giant simply watched.

They are all afraid of him, Sansa had realized. She had seen what he was capable of, but she felt she hadn’t seen all of it yet.

To some degree that scared her, but deep inside her, she felt he wasn’t going to hurt her.

After Sandor had returned, nobody but Davos dared to ask what he had done with Melisandre. Sandor simply answered he did what he would do to every enemy of the Emperor.

Sandor had then asked if they had food here and went to the dining hall, while the red-haired wildling was thrilled to share all with him and get to know about him.

Sansa had been hungry as well, but first, she took the first bath she had in ages. The hot water had felt incredible around her sore body. She had even fallen asleep in the hot water but had woken up when Jon had knocked on the door, saying somebody was here for her.

 _Sandor_ , Sansa had thought excited and quickly gotten out of the water and dressed, but when she had opened the door, she had seen the face of Brienne of Tarth.

Lady Brienne told how they had followed their tracks ever since they had seen them escape Winterfell. Obviously, Brienne had been the one to come up with the candle plan.

While Sansa was glad to finally see the face behind the plan, she had been irritated that Brienne had no answer to Sansa’s question what Brienne’s plan would have been in case she had lit the candle.

That evening Sansa had dinner with Jon and she told him how sorry she was about everything. Jon said she had no reason to be sorry. Jon had started to ask her out about Sandor because he was just as confused as she was about him.

Sansa told him, that he wasn’t the Sandor she knew from King’s Landing, but that he had protected her all the same.

It was already past the hour of the wolf when Sansa and Jon parted ways.

On the way to her room, she saw a light from the room that Sandor had taken. She decided to visit him quickly and thank him for bringing her here.

Sansa knocked on the door but didn’t get an answer. Sansa slowly opened the door and looked inside.

Sandor was sitting with the back towards her. He was wearing his armor this time. It was then Sansa saw how massive his body was. He was only wearing something like smallclothes and Sansa could see every single muscle of his body being perfectly in shape.

He was emitting pure masculinity and seeing him like this gave her a strange feeling inside her. Some longing she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Sandor didn’t turn so she approached him. When she was just a meter away he spoke up.

“What brings you’re here?” he said calmly.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said.

“Thank me for what?”

“Bringing me here.”

Sandor stood up and Sansa looked up to his face.

“You aren’t afraid of me,” he said and it sounded rather like a statement than a question.

“No,” Sansa simply said.

“Maybe you should be,” he said and moved forward and Sansa moved back until she was with her back against the wall.

“You won’t hurt me,” she said.

“Get away from her!” she heard Brienne yelled behind Sandor, but Sandor didn’t turn and continued to look at Sansa. He huffed lightly.

“Brienne no!” Sansa yelled when she heard Brienne draw her sword, but it was too late. Brienne rammed her sword in Sandor’s back.

Sansa saw the blade come out of his stomach. Her eyes were widened in shock, but Sandor didn’t seem to be bothered by the sword.

Sandor simply erected to his full size and simply grabbed the sword pulling it out.

Blood rushed from the wound, but Sansa couldn’t believe what she saw when right in front of her eyes the usually mortal wound healed in front of her eyes.

Sandor let the blade fall to the ground.

“No, I won’t hurt you,” Sandor said calmly before he turned to around and started to approach Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inquisition](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Inquisition)
> 
> [Ordo Hereticus](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ordo_Hereticus)


	5. Sansa III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I feel you need an idea of how tall Sandor is in that story:
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/f6nbiix)

“Sandor no!” Sansa yelped and moved in front of him. “Please don’t hurt her!” Sansa pleaded.

Sandor looked at her before he looked over to Brienne.

If Sandor wanted to kill Brienne, he could push her aside as easy as somebody hit after an annoying fly during summer.

Sandor turned around and picked up Brienne’s sword before throwing it over to her.

“Do that again and I’ll end you,” he growled. “Be sure of that.”

Brienne looked like she wanted to say something, but Sansa spoke up.

“Please leave us alone Brienne,” Sansa said. “He is not going to hurt me.”

“My lady,” Brienne said bowing her head and left daring daggers at Sandor.

Sansa closed the door.

Sansa walked over to Sandor, who just poured himself a cup of water.

“I already heard her when she came up the stairs,” Sandor rasped bored. “She makes more noise than a green skin*.”

Sansa carefully touched him where Brienne’s sword had penetrated his skin.

There was only a scar left, where minutes ago a deadly wound had been.

“That’s impossible,” Sansa said brushing her fingers over the slightly rough scar tissue.

Sandor turned around to her and she saw all the scars that covered his body she hadn’t noticed before.

All healed with no sign of stitches. Wounds every normal man should have died off.

“What are you?” she asked. “What I have seen is beyond my understanding. I’ve seen you kill twenty men as if they are training dolls. I just saw you heal a wound that would have been mortal to any man I have ever known…what are you?”

“I am beyond any man you have ever met. I am far more than a man. I am a member of the Adeptus Astartes. The Angels of the Death. The wrath of the Emperor.”

“Who is this Emperor, you keep talking about? And what do you mean by beyond any man I know? Where are you from? Where is your family?”

“The protector of mankind, the father of the Primarchs*, who are the fathers of the twenty legions of the Adeptus Astartes the Emperor used to conquer the galaxy for the glory of mankind.”

“So he is like a god?”

“He is no god. At least not for me and my battle brothers.”

“I see,” Sansa said touching his torso once more. His muscles felt as hard as metal. “But how is it possible for you to do what you do.”

“I am something you probably won’t be able to understand,” Sandor said.

“Please try,” Sansa said.

“Not today,” he rasped. “Why are you here?”

Sansa stroked down his torso with the tips of her fingers. To be that close to him. To feel his body under her fingertips made her long even more for him.

Her finger stroked down his stomach to the hem of what was the equivalent of smallclothes.

“I mean to thank you,” Sansa whispered. _In the only way I learned to thank a man_ , Sansa added as thought.

Sandor covered her hand with his giant palm. Sansa looked up to him.

“You don’t have to thank me and certainly not like that.”

“But…how am I supposed to thank you? I have nothing to offer to you but my body.”

“I serve mankind,” Sandor simply said.

“Why are you like this?” Sansa asked slightly frustrated. The harder she tried to get to know him the less she seemed to get to know him.

Sandor just looked at her.

“What is it? Talk to me!” she yelled at him.

“What is it you want, Sansa?” he asked. “I know what has been done to you. I saw it the moment I looked at you in Winterfell. I saw it a thousand times or more during all the years of service. I saw more defiled women than I can count. Either by rebels, allies of chaos or just by members of the Astra Militarum* who thought it would be their right when fighting on a foreign world.”

Sansa felt her heart race and cold sweat on her skin. She had not mentioned what has been done to her to Sandor. She hadn’t told anyone any details, but he seemed to know it in detail just by looking at her.

“I want…I want…,” Sansa started and felt tears well in her eyes. “I just want everything to be like it was before…” she sobbed. “I want us to be close again. You were my only friend I had in King’s Landing…or at least the version of you I know…”

Then something happened Sansa had not expected to happen.

Sandor carefully embraced her and Sansa flung her arms around him as good as she could. She couldn’t even reach halfway around him.

She rubbed her wet cheek against his skin and his chest felt warm against her face.

Sansa felt his hands on her back.

Sandor didn’t say anything but gently _rubbed_ her back.

At this moment Sansa felt safer and happier than she had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Green Skin](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ork)
> 
> [Primarch](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Primarch)
> 
> [Astra Militarum](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Astra_Militarum)


	6. Sandor III

A few days later they sat at the lunch table in the great hall. Well everyone was sitting, besides Sandor.

The wooden benches could hardly carry his weight without his power armor, with it they would simply break under him, so he sat on the floor.

He was still taller than everyone else at the table.

He had put his helmet on the floor next to him. They were eating mostly in silence.

The food wasn’t exactly as nourishing as the usual rations he was used too, but he would neither starve to death nor would he lose his ability to fight. He simply ignored the bad taste and the thought meat that was served.

He noticed though how Sansa picked around at her food and didn’t look nearly pleased, but didn’t say anything.

He saw Brienne give her a tiny smile. Brienne hadn’t attempted anything against him anymore. She obviously knew that there was no way she could kill him.

Sansa’s brother though and the new Lord Commander of the Nightswatch were enjoying their food.

Sandor huffed a little seeing that red-haired wildling smirk at Brienne. Due to his neuroglottis* he was able to smell the hormones the wildling sends out. He was clearly lusting after Brienne.

Sandor turned his head to the closed door when he heard the gate of Castle Black open. Soon after a man approached the door of the hall and entered with a letter in his hand.

He handed it over to Sansa’s brother and Sandor saw Sansa freeze seeing the wax seal of her late husband’s house.

Jon started to read the letter loud after breaking the seal.

“To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon…”

Jon Snow looked over to Sansa and Sandor noticed the fear in their eyes.

“His direwolf's skin is on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living. You…”

“Go on,” Sansa urged him.

“It's just more of the same,” Jon said and Sandor heard the lie, just wanting to speak up when Sansa already grabbed the letter from his fingers.

"You will watch as my soldiers take turns _raping_ your sister. You will watch as my dogs your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

Sandor felt anger hearing this threat towards Sansa. He didn’t know where this came from. He shouldn’t feel that way. He had heard threats far worse and never shown any reaction to it.

“Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North,” Sansa’s brother said.

“His father's dead. Ramsay killed him. And now he has Rickon.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.”

“How many men does he have in his army?” Tormund asked.

“I heard him say five thousand once when he was talking about Stannis’s attack.”

“How many do you have?” Jon asked Tormund.

“That can march and fight? Two thousand maybe. The rest are children and old people.”

Sandor was bored by that the whole conversation. It would take them weeks to gather men to attack. Sandor could probably deal with the Bolton army alone, especially if they didn’t suddenly get any _proper_ weapons.

Sandor got up and put on his helmet. The magnetic lock locked and his HUD activated.

He turned to leave, but Sansa spoke up.

“Sandor where are you going?” she asked.

“I am leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Sansa yelped getting up from her chair.

“I am going to take back Winterfell,” he plainly said looking down into her blue eyes.

“You can’t go alone!” she said.

“Who is going to stop me?” he asked, keeping the amusement out of his voice.

“Please at least wait until we gathered the men we have,” she pleaded.

Sandor sighed. He had no idea why this young woman had so much influence on his decision process.

“Alright…I wait…but not too long.”

Sandor saw a small smile on Sansa’s face.

***

Weeks later they on the fields in front of Winterfell. They had gathered several hundred men to their side on the way south, but the army of Sansa’s brother was still far lower in numbers than Ramsay Bolton’s.

Sandor had said he could easily kill Ramsay and be done with it.

Jon had always claimed they needed to beat Ramsay in a battle to show the North the Starks were back to rule.

Sandor thought Jon knew nothing about proper warfare. Too honorable. It’s a miracle he is still alive. In the world where Sandor came from Jon would have died long before he would have reached the age he now was.

Jon Snow, Sansa, Davos, Tormund, and some Stark bannermen sat on horseback, waiting, while Ramsay Bolton a few of his bannerman approached them accompanied by a few soldiers on horseback. The stopped a few paces away.

Sandor was the only one on foot. He held his Bolt rifle in hand. His secondary was attached to his belt while his power sword* was on the other side of his belt.

“You don’t have to be here,” Sandor heard Jon whisper to Sansa.

Sandor thought it brave that Sansa wanted to be here to face her abuser. Sandor though didn’t understand the necessity of this meeting.

If there was to be a battle let it happen and stop talking.

“Yes, I do,” Sansa said just as Ramsay came closer with two of his lords.

“My beloved wife. I’ve missed you terribly,” Ramsay said smirking. “And I see you brought the man who stole you right with you.”

Ramsay turned to Jon.

“Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely. Now, dismount and kneel before me, surrender your army and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will pardon you for deserting the Night’s Watch. I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my house. Come, bastard, you don’t have the men, you don’t have the horses, and you don’t have Winterfell. Why lead those pour souls into slaughter? There’s no need for a battle. Get off your hose and kneel. I’m a man of mercy.”

“You’re right. There’s no need for a battle. Thousands of men don’t need to die. Only one of us. Let’s end this the old way. You against me.”

“I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you, you’re the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don’t know if I’d beat you. But I know that my army will beat yours. I have six thousand men. You have, what, half that? Not even?”

“Aye, you have the numbers. Will your men want to fight for you when they hear you wouldn’t fight for them?”

“He’s good. Very good. Tell me, will you let your little brother die because you’re too proud to surrender?”

“How do we know you have him?” Sansa asked.

One of Ramsay’s men got a head out of his bag and threw it to the ground in front of them.

The head reminded Sandor of the Fenrisian Wolf’s* the Space Wolves* sometimes took to battle.

“Now, if you want to save…”

“You’re going to die, Lord Bolton,” Sansa said coldly.

Ramsay turned to Jon once more smirking.

“She’s a fine woman, your sister. I look forward to having her back in my bed. And you’re all fine-looking men. My dogs are desperate to meet you. I haven’t fed them for seven days. They’re ravenous. I wonder which parts they’ll try first. Your eyes? Your balls? We’ll find out soon enough and then I will enjoy your sister again. In the morning, then, bastard.”

Something snapped inside Sandor hearing Ramsay talk like this about Sansa and before he knew what he was doing he raised his Bolter and pulled the trigger hitting the man who had thrown the wolf head dead center in the chest.

His whole torso was ripped to pieces as the Bolt exploded inside his chest. The bloody remains where thrown of the horse.

Ramsay looked at him in shock.

Within the blink of an eye, he shot a second time ripping the other lords head off his shoulder.

“There won’t be a tomorrow for you, Bastard,” Sandor growled.

Sandor just wanted to take aim at Ramsay when the men he had taken with him charged him, while Ramsay turned his horse around and rode as quick as he could back to the castle.

Sandor put one bolt in each of the riders before he turned to Sansa and the other who looked in shock what Sandor had just done.

“Enough talking. Its time to take back this castle,” he said directed to Sansa and ran towards the castle before he heard the answer he might have gotten.

He reached the gates and arrows rained down at him harmlessly bouncing off his armor barely leaving a scratch in the adamantium*.

His machine ghost marked the soldiers on top of the walls, but Sandor hesitated to shoot.

He only had a limited number of bolts for his rifle and who knew for what he might need them in the future.

He put his bolter on the backpack and the magnetic field activated holding it in place.

Sandor punched a hole in the thick oak gate and broke the beam that locked it. He gave the gate a kick and the gate flung open nearly shattering hitting the stone wall.

He saw a few hundred, if not thousand men ready in the courtyard. Some on horses most on foot.

A few hundred arrows rushed towards him, but Sandor barely heard the hits on his armor. The hits sounded just as loud as raindrops hitting him…they also had the same effect.

Sandor drew his power sword and stormed towards the enemy lines without hesitation.

He was the sword of the Emperor, the wrath of humanity and these poor souls learned what that meant.

His first swing cut down half a dozen men. His sword cut through leather, steel and flesh like it was nothing.

Within minutes he had killed thousands of men and the other man started to look for a way to escape this massacre.

The green of Sandor’s armor had turned red already, but he didn’t stop. He killed every Bolton man he could get hands on.

The soldiers didn’t stand a chance against his superior strength and reflexes. He spotted Ramsay behind his men and Sandor started to cut his way through to him, while he ran inside the keep while his men tried to slow Sandor down.

He reached the door to the keep and when he had cut down the last two men who had been too late to get inside before the door had been locked, he sheathed his sword. In the small corridors of the keep, it would only hinder his movement.

He pulled his combat knife* and kicked the door in before he entered.

Sandor continued to cut down every man he found and the corridors of the keep turned into a slaughterhouse while one Bolton man after another fell to his knife.

Sandor continued to clean each floor and each room until only the lord's chamber was left.

The door was unlocked and Sandor entered.

He heard a scratching sound at the back of his armor and turned around. One of Ramsay’s men had tried to ram his sword into his back but it, of course, had failed to even leave a scratch in his armor.

Sandor grabbed the man’s head and smashed it against the wall ending his life in a crushing wet sound before he turned to Ramsay, who desperately shot one arrow after another against Sandor.

Ramsay’s aim was good and he even once hit the lens of his right eyes, but the armored glass was just as strong as his armor.

Sandor sheathed his knife and slowly approached Ramsay who looked more desperate with ever meter Sandor came closer.

As Sandor reached Ramsay, he simply grabbed his arm dragging him outside.

In the courtyard, Sandor saw that Sansa, Jon and the others had come looking in disbelieve what they saw.

Some of Jon’s men ended the agony of some of Ramsay’s men.

Sandor held Ramsay on one arm up, while he struggled against Sandor’s grip as if he could escape.

Sandor looked to Sansa who starred at Ramsay helpless in Sandor’s grip.

“Sansa,” Sandor rasped and Sansa looked at him.

“Do it,” she said.

Sandor grabbed Ramsay’s arm tighter and easily broke Ramsay’s arm throwing him to the ground.

Ramsay tried to crawl away towards Sansa but Sandor stepped on his legs breaking them in the progress making Ramsay scream in agony.

Sandor decided to end in and bowed down grabbing Ramsay’s head with his right hand before ripping his head off his shoulders together with his spine.

Sandor saw that everyone’s attention was focused on him. The castle staff also had finally shyly stepped out to the courtyard.

Sandor held Ramsay’s severed head high up in the sky and while everybody started to cheer, he saw Sansa smile in relief that the man who had turned her life into a nightmare was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Neuroglottis](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Neuroglottis)
> 
> [Power Sword](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Power_Sword)
> 
> [Fenrisian Wolf](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Fenrisian_Wolf)
> 
> [Space Wolves](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Space_Wolves)
> 
> [Adamantium](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Adamantium)
> 
> [Combat Knife](https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Combat_Knife)


	7. Sansa IV

“The Queen in the North!” the Lords had yelled in union as Sansa sat down on the throne, the carpenters had worked on the last couple of weeks.

Sansa still couldn’t believe how easily they had gotten Winterfell back…or, to tell the truth, how easily Sandor had gotten Winterfell back for them.

They hadn’t lost a single man.

Sansa knew by then that Sandor was more than capable of killing several men with ease, but this has shown her what he was truly capable of.

He had eliminated the whole Bolton army single-handedly within a short time and after he had killed Ramsay in front of her eyes, he hadn’t even nearly seemed to be tired.

Quite the opposite to be honest. He had rather seemed disappointed that it had been this easy.

The word of what had happened in Winterfell had spread quickly in the North and Sandor had become a legend that brought fear into the heart of men.

Sandor never left Sansa’s side after they had retaken the castle. Due to his loyalty to her, the northern Lords had named her lady of Winterfell and decided to crown her queen.

Rickon was alive, but Sandor had made it clear he saw her as the legitimate ruler due to her being the eldest child. Nobody dared to speak against it and Rickon didn’t seem to care either.

The coronation had been dated for a few weeks later, so every lord could come to Winterfell to bent the knee.

A week after they had taken back Winterfell, Littlefinger had suddenly appeared in front of the gates with the knights of the Vale behind him.

Sansa had seen how surprised he was to see her here in Winterfell, instead of still trying to gather support to retake Winterfell.

Sansa had once trusted him, but he had betrayed her trust by selling her to Ramsay.

Littlefinger still tried to convince her that he was her truest friend and that he had only brought the knights of the vale to support her.

Sansa was suspicious. She knew how attached Sweetrobin was to Baelish. Sansa knew well enough that he wanted her at his side as wife, because she was a better younger version of her mother.

While she wasn’t exactly afraid of Baelish, she felt Baelish could use the knights of the Vale to overthrow her to take the North for himself and take her as his as well.

While they had not lost a single man during the retake of the castle, the wildlings and the few soldiers they had wouldn’t be enough to withstand the Vale army.

Sansa had asked Sandor if he could deal with the Knights of the Vale as easy as he had with the Bolton’s if necessary.

Sandor had said she only needed to say one word and he would wipe them out.

This promise was enough for Sansa to not be afraid of Littlefinger’s subtle threats.

Sandor’s mere presence next to her during the days when she listened to the petitions of the smallfolk made her feel safe.

She had seen Ramsay die in the cruelest way possible and to her shame she had felt satisfaction seeing him die like this screaming in pain.

_Killing is the sweetest thing in the world._

That have been the words of _her_ Sandor she had known in King’s Landing.

Ramsay was dead, but Sansa still woke up during the early hours of the night around the time Ramsay usually came to visit her. It was like her body was remembering what had been done to her and woke her up so she could prepare mentally for what didn’t happen anymore.

In the nights Brienne guarded her door, while Sandor was at her side during the days.

After the coronation, there had been a large feast. Lord Manderly had brought two dozen cards with food and wine from White Harbor.

Sansa suspected he wanted to get on good terms with her.

Sandor’s presence at her side had also a nice side effect.

None of the young Lords or knights approached her that evening during the feast to dance with her or try to win her heart by empty chatter.

They all were afraid of Sandor, her silent guard towering above her.

Because of this, she could enjoy the feast in peace and quiet.

Littlefinger once tried to approach her tonight, but Sandor had only to turn his head lightly showing him he was watching him, to make Baelish leave her alone.

It was around the hour of the wolf when Sansa decided to leave the feast. There weren’t many people celebrating anymore. Jon was forced to play a drinking game with Tormund and Davos, alongside some Lords, while Baelish had already left hours ago.

When she got up from her throne Brienne wanted to approach her, but Sansa told her Sandor would guard her tonight.

Sansa went to her room, her parents’ old bedroom, with Sandor walking a few steps behind her.

They reached her room and she wanted to open the door, but stopped just as she had unlocked the door.

She turned to Sandor.

“Will you please stay with me tonight?” she asked.

He looked at her, but she couldn’t see his face behind the red glowing lenses of his helmet.

He nodded and Sansa felt her heart jump in happiness.

She entered the room and Sandor followed her closing the door behind him.

Sansa put her crown down on the table and Sansa started to unlace the dress she had made for the coronation ceremony.

She felt Sandor’s eyes on her as she let her dress slip off her shoulders until it pooled around her feet.

Feeling Sandor’s eyes on her didn’t give her the feeling of shame and disgust she usually had felt when she had to undress.

Usually undressing reminded her of the times she had been exposed against her will.

In the throne room on Joffrey’s order, during the wedding night with Tyrion and of course all the nights with Ramsay…

Sansa kept her shift on and got under the warm furs.

“Can…can you undress too and hold me?” she asked feeling herself blush. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

For a moment Sandor did nothing, but then the locks of his armor opened with a clack and Sandor stepped out of it.

He put his helmet on the table next to her crown.

Without a word, he got under the furs next to her and the bed cracked under his weight.

Sansa had ordered the carpenters to make the bed extra strong. She hadn’t said why but she had hoped it would be for Sandor potential sleeping in it.

She carefully snuggled up to him and placed her head on his chest.

_He is so warm_ , Sansa thought happily and listened to his heart beating in his chest.

But something was strange…

Sansa frowned and listened more closely. It was like she was hearing two heart beats in his chest.

Sansa raised her head off his chest and looked at him.

“Sandor?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why do I hear two heartbeats in your chest?”

“Because I have two hearts,” he said like it was the most common thing to say.

“What?” Sansa asked taken aback.

“It's one of the gifts from my gene-seed*,” he said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have more organs than a normal human. They are part of why I am so strong.”

“I see,” Sansa said placing her head back on this chest. “You are full of surprises.”

Sandor only hummed as answer.

This hum reminded her so much of the Sandor she had known.

Sansa placed her hand on his chest. His muscles were hard like metal underneath her fingers.

Sansa lifted her head off his chest and did something she had wanted to do for a long time.

She crawled up to his face and brushed her lips against his.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Something I wanted to do for a long time,” she explained. “I feel so many things for you Sandor. You aren’t the one I’ve known obviously, but you are just like him and I feel the same towards you by now. You are my only true friend and I feel even more than friendship to you…”

She kissed him once more.

“Sansa…I…”

“I know that you watch me behind your red eyes when you guard me during the day. I feel your eyes on me and I think you are also feeling something for me.”

She placed her hand on the bulge in his smallclothes.

“Or how would you explain this reaction to me.”

He didn’t say anything and so Sansa got bolder. She slowly shoved her hand in his smallclothes and watched his reaction as she wrapped her fingers around his length.

He was just as hard as the rest of him.

Sandor swallowed and Sansa kissed him again. This time Sandor deepened the kiss.

His hand started to wander over her body and Sansa felt shivers run down her spine and his gentle touch.

She felt a strange unknown feel in her lower belly.

Sansa pushed her shift off her shoulders and he carefully cupped her breasts gently squeezing them brushing his thumb over her nipple.

She hummed at the feeling.

He started to kiss her breasts and Sansa was overwhelmed how gentle his touches were, considering how easy he could hurt her if he wanted.

Sandor started to kiss his way down her chest towards the hem of her smallclothes.

Sansa was nervous and slightly anxious. Since Ramsay nobody had seen her completely naked, not to speak of touched her private parts.

Sandor looked up at her as if he could feel her inner turmoil. Sansa was sure he would stop if she asked him to. But she wants this. She wants to feel and be with him in the closest way possible.

Sansa got rid of her shift and lifted her bum for Sandor so he could pull off her smallclothes.

He carefully did and he looked at her as he buried his face in between her legs. Sansa had never expected a man would actually want to do that but Sandor wasn’t a normal man.

She felt his tongue between her folds and she was overwhelmed by how good it felt.

Sansa moaned softly and she felt a warmth deep inside her spread through her whole body.

“Sandor…more…” she moaned when she felt herself close to her peak.

And he continued until she felt waves of pleasure run through her body as she moaned.

When she came down from her heights, she looked at Sandor with his face still between her legs.

She was unsure of how to continue. She didn’t know how he would like to take her. He could easily turn her on her belly and pressing her down like Ramsay had used to, to muffle her screams in the sheets.

“I want you, Sandor, but I don’t know…I don’t know how…”

Sandor got rid of his smallclothes and laid down on the bed. Sansa was relieved that his member wasn’t as large as she feared considering his ginormous body size. It was for sure larger than Ramsay’s, but it had rather…a normal human size?

“Get on top of me,” he rasped and Sansa did.

She didn’t know that was also a way for man and women to lie together.

Sansa slowly sank down on his length and she sighed happily at the feeling of him inside of her.

She slowly started to move while Sandor guided her movement with his left hand while his right caressed her breasts.

_This feels good_ , Sansa thought. _This feels more than good._

Sansa moved a little quicker and she heard Sandor hum at her movement. She felt her next peak approach her and she continued until she went over the edge feeling herself clench around him.

Sansa rode out her peak and continued until felt Sandor groan underneath her as he peaked.

His face looked softer than ever before. He was looking in awe at her.

“You are beautiful,” he rasped.

Hearing this from _his_ mouth, these words moved more inside her than a thousand empty compliments she had gotten before.

Sansa leaned herself forward until she was completely sprawled over his chest.

She felt him slip out of her and he embraced her with both arms after pulling the furs over them.

Sansa felt warm and satisfied. It was a feeling she never had before but knew she didn’t want to miss any longer.

“Thank you,” she whispered sleepy and rubbed her cheek against his chest.

“Your welcome,” he rasped silently and rubbed her hand over her back.

It didn’t take long for Sansa to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Gene-Seed](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Gene-seed)


	8. Sandor IV

Sansa was peacefully asleep on his chest. His advanced metabolism allowed him to be fully functional with very little sleep.

And since he wasn’t really exhausted by anything most of the time, he only slept one or two hours per night.

Usually, he took runs around the castle until the staff awoke when he woke up that early.

But now he didn’t dare to move even a little in fear he could wake up Sansa from sleeping calmly for once.

He knew that she still woke up at night haunted by nightmares so it was kind of a miracle she was now sleeping for hours already with no nightmare in sight.

Sandor starred up at the canopy of her bed.

He had an inner conflict with himself he was traitor now, that he had shared Sansa’s bed. He knew the Codex Astartes*, but it didn’t say anything about relationships to women.

Most chapters lived in celibacy, but he knew about the legends that some Astartes of the Ultramarines* had affairs if not straight a harem and children.

He asked himself if the Emperor would approve, after all, he had created the Astartes.

If he really would have wanted them to not have romantic relationships, why didn’t he repress the reaction they could show to women or make them strait sterile?

Sandor held on that thought that he hadn’t betrayed the Emperor’s trust.

He thought about his feelings for Sansa. Astartes weren’t emotionless killing machines, they didn’t know fear, but they knew all other emotions.

Sandor didn’t know where these feelings for Sansa came from. He felt the strong urge to protect her at all costs. He also felt the urge to be close to her.

Love. Was this love he felt?

He didn’t know. He had never felt like this before.

During all these months he had been here it had become painfully obvious to him that he had not seen the slightest bit of advanced technology.

That could mean it might take decades if not longer for him to be _maybe_ be found.

He decided that until he would be found he would fight for Sansa and protect her at all costs.

He kissed the crown of her head and heard her hum in sleep.

Sandor felt a small smile curl up his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Codex Astartes](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Codex_Astartes)
> 
> [Ultramarines](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ultramarines)


	9. Sansa V

Sansa looked back on the last year. It had been incredible months behind them. About a month after Sansa had first shared her bed with Sandor Arya had returned home.

Arya had been able to believe what she saw when she met Sandor and tried to attack him, but Sandor had dodged her attack and held her upside down on one leg before Sansa explained to him who she was.

Arya said it was impossible that Sandor was here. She had seen him die in the Riverlands begging for her to kill him. And she _had_ ended his suffering on his by his own demand.

She had even buried him herself before she had sailed to Braavos.

Sansa had tried to explain it as well as possible to Arya, that this wasn’t the Sandor they knew, but a different Sandor.

Arya was at first cold to Sandor, but when she heard what he was capable off and how he had served house Stark she was fine with it in the end.

With Sansa being queen, it wasn’t a secret for long that Sandor slept in her room every night and soon rumors spread like wildfire, but Sansa didn’t care.

Sandor gave her what she had craved for in years. He made her feel whole. He made her feel safe and cherished.

He also made sure no harm ever came to close to her.

Nobody dared to harm her and none of the Lords dared to question her reign because she was a woman, in fear Sandor would be Sansa’s answer.

Littlefinger though had once tried something. As soon as it had become obvious that Sandor was the one who owned Sansa’s heart, Littlefinger had realized that she would never be his.

So he had made the plan to murder her and Sandor. He had wanted to blame Cersei for it. He had wanted to use the feast for Rickon’s nameday to poison them.

He put the poison in the wine that had been served, but Sandor had knocked the cup out of her hand before she had the chance to take a sip.

Sandor had told her he had tasted the poison. Littlefinger, of course, had denied any responsibility for it and blamed Cersei, but the man who had poisoned the wine on Littlefingers request had broken down and blamed Littlefinger in hope to get spared.

The man had indeed been spared and been sent to the Wall, but Littlefinger had been executed on Sansa’s order.

He was hung in front of everyone. He didn’t deserve an honorable death by sword.

A month after the execution word had reached Winterfell that Daenerys Targaryen had landed in Dragonstone and demanded everyone to bent the knee and accept her rule.

Sansa refused, but Jon insisted to travel to Dragonstone to ask for her help against the White Walker with her three dragons.

Sansa had allowed it and given Jon some rope for the negotiations. He had been able to offer that discussion about bending the knee would be held after the White Walkers were done.

Daenerys though had not been convinced that the White Walker existed so she had demanded a proof.

Jon had come up with the insane idea to catch a Wight beyond the wall and present it to Daenerys.

Sansa had asked Sandor to go after Jon because she wanted her brother to be safe. Sandor had caught up with Jon and his men beyond the wall just in time.

They had been surrounded on an island on a frozen lake by ten thousands of dead and the Nightsking.

Jon had told Sansa that he had seen White Walker being invincible to weapons that weren’t made of Dragonglass or Valyrian Steel, but that was also the case with the weapons Sandor used.

Instead of killing the Nightsking servants Sandor had focused on the Nightsking and his White Walker.

According to Jon Sandor had only shot once hitting the Nightsking scattering him to pieces, making all other White Walker and wights crumble to dust.

Sandor had single-handedly ended the threat from beyond the Wall once and for all.

While Sandor had been beyond the Wall Bran had returned to Winterfell, but he wasn’t the brother anymore she knew. He was changed…he kept saying he was the Three-Eyed Raven, whatever that meant. He though had no interest in ruling the North.

With the necessity of winning Daenerys to her cause gone, there still have been a council in King’s Landing to discuss Cersei’s abdication, because Daenerys had lost most of her men due to Lord Tyrion’s misjudgment of Daenerys’ enemies.

Even Sansa had come to King’s Landing. She didn’t fear to return to this place with Sandor to protect her.

And he _had_ to protect her. As soon as Cersei had seen her she had ordered the Mountain to kill her, but Sandor had dealt quickly with him.

He had used the weapon he so far had always kept attached to his belt. When the Mountain had walked towards them Sandor had raised his weapon and shot a single time. A ball of blue fire*, so bright it had hurt Sansa’s eyes, had hit Gregor straight in the chest burning itself through armor and flesh until it came out of his back.

The Mountain simple fell dead to the ground leaving everyone, especially Cersei, in shock.

In the end, Cersei had bent the knee and was allowed to leave Westeros with Jaime.

Daenerys then demanded everyone to bent the knee to her rule, but Sandor had refused to bend the knee. He said he served Sansa and that she was the Queen of the North.

Daenerys once more gave Sandor the chance to bent the knee but Sandor refused.

Daenerys then ordered all her dragons to burn him.

Sansa had yelped when Sandor had been consumed the flamed of three dragons, but when the creatures had stopped Sandor had stood there completely unharmed.

Sandor had then said he gave Daenerys one last chance to accept Sansa’s rule of the North, but Daenerys had refused, so Sandor had done what he had always done when Sansa was threated.

First, he had killed Daenerys largest dragon with Daenerys on top. He had cut off his head with a single stroke of his word. When it died Daenerys had fallen off it and been crushed by the body. After that Sandor had shot the other two out of the sky.

It was that moment that Bran had revealed Jon’s true parentage. Sansa couldn’t believe her father had kept that secret all these years and not even trusted her mother enough for it.

So many things could have been different if her father would have revealed that secret to his family.

In the end, Jon reluctantly accepted the Iron Throne but allowed Sansa to rule the North independently.

Sansa had returned North with Sandor and Arya. Arya had even brought a young man with her she apparently had met as she had fled King’s Landing.

Sansa was happy her home would be safe from enemies from the inside and the outside.

They were ready to face the coming winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Plasma Weapons](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Plasma_weapon)
> 
> So big reveal. I used the Man in the High Castle approach to bring Warhammer 40k Sandor into this AsoiaF world. So the Asoiaf Sandor is really dead, but this allowed W40k Sandor to slip into this universe, just like in MitHC where people can also only cross the parallel realities if their counterpart died in this one.


	10. Sansa VI

Winter was raging for five years already and there was no end in sight. The snow was a meter deep all over the North and it would probably become far worse before it would become better.

Sansa though had made her peace with it. The North was prepared for the winter and its people were safe and fed.

And nobody dared to question her position as queen in the north. Mostly due to her just rule that helped nobility and smallfolk alike, but also due to Sandor being the constant reminder for everyone who would come for them if they dared to threaten Sansa.

No one had come in the years to ask for her hand in marriage. Not that nobody was interested in her but they were all afraid of Sandor.

Arya had married Gendry not long after she had returned north with him. They had taken their seat in the Dreadfort now that house Bolton was gone.

Sansa hadn’t heard from her sister in a while, but the last time she had sent a raven it had contained a letter that she was with child.

Sansa was happy for her sister. She seemed to have found her peace with Gendry. At first, Arya had seemed restless now that all their enemies were gone and she had considered sailing around the world, but when she had settled down with Gendry theses thoughts had turned into mere ideas until they were gone completely.

Sansa though had never married officially, mostly due to Sandor saying his ‘codex’ didn’t allow him to marry.

They still lived like they were married though. Sandor slept in her chamber every night and they loved each other as often as they liked. Sansa had no reason to complain. Even though she knew what Sandor's hands were capable off he never hurt her and was just as gentle and perfect as she had always expected him to be.

By now she didn’t distinguish between her Sandor and the Sandor she had known. They were the same in her mind.

Sansa also didn’t care about anyone talking about her and Sandor. Sansa didn’t even try to make it a secret that he was the man at her side.

Who would dare to speak up, or even dare to change that?

Westeros was in peace. Jon was ruling the south and ever since there had been no new war.

Sansa felt though that Sandor at times seemed to miss the war. To some degree, Sansa could understand him. He had been trained for war all his life and peace was something he wasn’t prepared for.

He seemed restless and trained without breaks for days at times just to feel the slightest bit of exhaustion.

He was still the capable warrior like before but Sansa felt she had awoken the feeling of love in him, even though he wasn’t able to say the words Sansa had told him already years ago.

Tonight, Sandor had decided to make a run to Castle Cerwyn and back.

He should soon return and Sansa already waited for him in their chamber.

The fire was already burning in the fireplace and Sansa starred into the flames smiling stroking her lower belly with her hand.

She couldn’t wait for the face Sandor would make if she would tell him later that she was with child.


	11. Sandor V

****

Nearly two hundred years had passed since the day Sansa had revealed to him that she was expecting a child. Sandor hadn’t known what to expect.

Sansa had laughed heartily at the face he had obviously made.

He was far beyond any normal human in both physique and mind, so he wasn’t sure what would happen if his genes were crossed with a normal human being.

In the end, his child had turned out totally healthy. Just a normal little girl.

Sansa had named her Serena and when Sandor had held her in his giant hands for the first time, he had felt a strange warmth inside him seeing this tiny human being.

After Serena, he had fathered two more children within a few years. One son and another daughter.

They had brought incredible joy to the North and its people.

Seeing them grow up into adulthood had brought him the peace he had lacked all his life.

The domestic life he had built up with Sansa was something he didn’t know he could enjoy.

Unfortunately, this hadn’t been forever. Shortly after Serena’s twentieth name day Sansa had gotten a severe pneumonia.

Antibiotics and real medicine were unknown in this world, but the maester had done his best for her.

When it had become painfully obvious that Sansa wasn’t going to make it Sandor had suggested there was one way, she might be able to be saved.

He still had the stasis grenade he had intended to use in case the target of his original mission had tried to escape, but back then he suggested to use it instead to create a stasis field around Sansa, so when he would be found by the Imperium she could be helped by real medicine.

Sansa had weakly asked him what that would mean and he had explained it would mean for her only a short time would pass, while outside several years, decades or even centuries could pass.

It would mean he would still be here when she might wake up but their children would already be dead and their children would already have children.

Their children had begged her to agree, in the hope it would only mean a few years of separation for them.

But it hadn't come as expected. Sansa had been put to stasis on a granite plate next to her father tomb down in the crypts, but in the years to come there had been not a single sign that this world had been part of the Imperium.

Sandor had traveled to the Citadel in Old Town and read every book available trying to gather knowledge or read anything about the Imperium.

Sandor had found nothing. Slowly but surely Sandor had realized that he would probably be never found by his battle-brothers or the Imperium.

In the coming decades, he had seen his own children become adults, marry and start a family on their own. Sandor saw them grow old and pass away only to see his grandchildren start families on their own.

He saw summers and winters come and go, while the hope that he would be found and be reunited with Sansa dwindled with every year.

Over the years he used his knowledge to strengthen house Starks position in the North.

Slowly but surely he arranged one marriage after another until every northern House had become a branch of House Stark.

Today the North was united under one House Stark.

It was the largest and strongest house of Westeros.

Sandor didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Everybody he had known when he had first come here was dead and dust long ago, so he spent countless hours in the crypt next to the stasis field where Sansa laid just as beautiful as she had been when he had activated it.

She was so close and yet unreachable. Only the Techmarines were able to deactivate the stasis field safely.

After his grandchildren had passed away and their children had taken over Sandor had decided he wanted to travel the whole world for one last attempt to find a way to send a signal into space.

He had traveled Essos and always further east until he had reached the western shores of Westeros once more.

It was then Sandor had made his decision that he wouldn’t wait until he was found.

He had gathered all his family members in Winterfell to tell him about his decision.

The North was safe and house Starks power was unassailable.

Sandor had decided he put his fate into the Emperor's hands. He would put himself into a state similar to Sansa.

He could go into a deep meditation that only could be ended from the outside by a strong psyker. Usually, Space Marines went into this self-induced stasis when they were mortally wounded to buy themselves time until they were treated by an Apothecary.

Sandor would activate the emergency signal of his power armor and the rest was in the hands of the Emperor.

Sandor said his goodbye to his family and went down to the crypts.

For a while, he stood next to the stasis field of Sansa and watched her face. He let every memory he had move by his inner eye and deep inside him he felt how much he missed her.

He missed her smile. He missed her voice. He missed everything about her.

Sandor put his hand on the stasis field.

“Someday we will be reunited. Either in life or in death.”

He sat down on the floor next to her and started his mental program to induce the stasis.

Moments before he went into stasis completely, he said the words he regretted the most never to have said to Sansa when she had still been around him, but he felt she knew that he had always carried these words inside him.

“I love you, Sansa.”

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> If I forgot one, please tell me and I'll add it to the list.
> 
> [ Caliban](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Caliban)
> 
> [Dark Angels](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Dark_Angels)
> 
> [Company Master](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Space_Marine_Captain)
> 
> [Belisarius Cawl](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Belisarius_Cawl)
> 
> [Primaris Astartes](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Primaris_Space_Marines)
> 
> [Adeptus Astartes](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Space_Marines)
> 
> [Imperium](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Imperium)
> 
> [Emperor of Mankind](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Emperor_of_Mankind)
> 
> [Inner Circle](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Inner_Circle)
> 
> [Fallen](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/The_Fallen)
> 
> [Azrael ](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Azrael)
> 
> [Chaos](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Chaos)
> 
> [Unforgiven](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Unforgiven)
> 
> [Warp](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Warp)
> 
> [Cypher](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Cypher)
> 
> [Belial](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Belial)
> 
> [Deathwing](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Deathwing)
> 
> [Ravenwing](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ravenwing)
> 
> [Terminators](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Terminator)
> 
> [Tech-priest](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Tech-priest)
> 
> [Sapphon](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Sapphon)
> 
> [Asmodai](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Asmodai)
> 
> [Servitor](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Servitor)
> 
> [Ezekiel](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ezekiel)
> 
> [Machine Spirit](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Machine_spirit)
> 
> [Vox-caster](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Vox-caster)
> 
> [MK.X Power Armor](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Power_Armour#Mark_10_.22Tacticus_Armour.22)
> 
> [Hive City](https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Hive)


End file.
